I've arrived.
Last eve, a dinner guest brought me a couple of pink pets as a gift. I fluffed the flower pot's today prior to placement of the yardbirds. I wore pale blue/white seersucker shorts (and an old pair of Gucci loaf's) whilst gardening. SDR had a wonderful evening. I know a real dirty joke. Hi.
Always,
Aunt Mark, tropical tacky gardener.
When I was growing up, my...
When I was growing up, my family had a business called "Yardbirds", wherein we would fill up people's yards with these flamingoes (for money, not randomly, ha) in the middle of the night. I spent SO many nights just crawling around in peoples' yards putting these things out (it's kind of frightening what you can get away with in someone's yard while they're just sitting inside watching tv!). Not getting caught was always the goal and a source of pride. Anyway, get a few dozen more of these and you can have a new business, Mark. 🙂
Yardbirds.
Why I simply went slightly overboard this morning...sacrificing a new pair of Lilly boxers to adorn little Hollis' tender head. I have plenty of leftover fabric to make a few more headwear designs. I must get some really sharp scissors. I wish that I could sew.
Fondly,
Your Aunt Mark
YOU GOT FLOCKED!
Yes this brought back great memories,it still exists today. You wake up to your whole front yard filled with these great pink birds. It feels good to get flocked in the morning. 🙂 Now I live in a neighborhood and when the Pink Flamingo is set out by the front door it means "Come on over Cocktails are ready!" So we do love our Pink Flamingos. I think your friend knows you very well and they are very appropriate on your lovely deck.
ENJOY.
Flock Hollis, EH.
What would Don Featherstone say?
By coincidence, the plastic lawn flamingo and I share a birth year and they have been in continuous production since not a twenty minute drive from where I now sit!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plastic_flamingo
Dearest Mark,
I've made a solemn commitment to never eat anything that's been described to me as tasting like chicken... ever. I won't even eat chicken if I hear someone say it tastes like chicken.
I wonder what that vacant lot next door would look like from your balcony populated by a few hundred pink flamingos. An idea for a floor party?
And, FTR, cuisses de grenouille tastes like frog's legs.
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